THE IMPACT OF HARRISON

I volunteer at a local animal shelter. Unfortunately it is not a "no kill" shelter. In December of 2007 an elderly Husky was found wandering on Harrison Street in Nutley New Jersey. The day before he was found, a man entered the shelter and asked about the procedure of surrendering his old and sick Husky. He was told that he could do it with no questions asked. Was it a coincidence that an older Husky was found the next day? I suppose we will never know.

I formed an immediate bond with Harrison, named for the street he was found on. I took him for walks every day I was there and spent time giving him attention. One day around the middle of the month the animal control officer told me that Harrison’s days might be numbered. He was suffering from some internal problems, his back legs were giving out and he seemed to be in a lot of pain. On the same day I was given an intense project to work on at the Archdiocese.

I learned that December 20 was to be the day that Harrison would be euthanized. I cried when I read the e-mail informing me of what I knew was coming but tried to avoid. What I was not going to avoid was going to see him one last time. On the afternoon of December 19 I left my office to spend as much time with Harrison as I could, hope to bring him some comfort and love.

From the minute I arrived at the shelter, my cell phone did not stop ringing. The calls were all about this project I had been assigned a few days earlier. I was getting annoyed at each call because it interrupted my time with Harrison. He loved to have his neck scratched and I was also trying to feed him a bone. Finally after the fourth call in less than twenty minutes, I lost my patience. I asked if I could possibly call back in about twenty minutes. I was involved in something important.

That is when an incredible revelation came upon me. I may have been trying to comfort Harrison, but the reality was that he was providing even more comfort and love to me in what was to be his final hours on earth. I found it difficult to leave him no more than ever since I knew he was serving me more than I was serving him. As I left Harrison, he looked at me as if to say, "Fear not, everything will be fine".

I am sure that I will not capture all of the lessons Harrison taught me, but the one with the most impact is that every moment given to a loving creature of God is precious. It was no accident that he came into my life when he did and that he was there to provide me with the love that he did at a time I needed it. Finally, the journey is not over. My hope and prayer is that Harrison is romping joyously in a place where he is content and free of pain. My selfish request is that I never forget the lesson he taught me and that possibly I may learn others as my life continues.

Blessings,
Deacon Joe

Copyright Mary Cody. All rights reserved.

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